


The End of the Road

by authoressjean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 15, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, I can't emphasize that enough, Season/Series 15, Season/Series 15 Speculation, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Temporary Character Death, Tissue Warning, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26690014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authoressjean/pseuds/authoressjean
Summary: It's the aftermath and somehow, everyone walked away.Everyone, except one.Billie gives the brothers a choice, but it's not the choice they were expecting.--My take on how the series should end.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Jack Kline, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Jody Mills & Claire Novak, Jody Mills & Sam Winchester
Comments: 41
Kudos: 119





	The End of the Road

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago, and I didn't want to post it for a while, but decided that I should probably get this going as we barrel towards new episodes.
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> A note: this does contain spoilers for descriptions of upcoming episodes, including the return of a favorite character... (look away now if you don't want to know)...
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> Felicia Day, or Charlie Bradbury, and not just apocalypseworld Charlie, OUR Charlie. So I'm hoping that somehow, that means our Charlie gets to stay, and so that remains the basis of part of this fic.

He knew it was over the moment he woke up on the dusty road.

Truth be told, it looked like a nice day. The sun shone down, but it wasn’t too hot. The dirt road had no real discernable place to go in either direction. There were no trees, no houses, no cars. Just a dirt road with some golden waves of grass on each side.

The problem was, it wasn’t where he’d been last. And that was how he knew it was over.

The last thing he’d seen was Chuck, glowing like a tiny universe, his power leaching out of him and back to the universe at large. The last thing he’d heard had been Chuck’s scream of pain and terror as it had all come down to the end.

And his brother, screaming his name, reaching for him, eyes wide in fear and desperation. His brother hadn’t been holding the weapon of destruction, though, siphoning all of Chuck’s powers out. He’d made sure of that, at least.

He stood up and took a better look around. No pain, no burning in his hands like there had been. No Chuck, no one. Just him and the open road.

Well. Guess that was how it ended, then. At least, for him. Hopefully his brother was all right.

He turned around and paused. There, standing in the middle of the road, was a very familiar figure. She watched him, garbed in her usual black attire.

Definitely dead, then.

“Not quite,” she said. “That remains to be seen. But yes. Mostly dead.”

“Hello to you too, Billie,” he said. He’d actually sort of been hoping he was permanently gone. He didn’t want to stick around and be another reason for his brother to give and give until it cost him his life. He wasn’t ready to be dead, not really, but he’d take it. For his brother, he’d do what needed to be done.

Her lips turned up into a smile. “Hello, Sam.”

* * *

“He’s not going to wake up, is he.”

Charlie’s voice was soft and almost choked. Dean couldn’t answer her. He couldn’t say anything. All he could do was sit by Sam’s side.

They’d managed to rig up a life support machine of sorts, an old breathing machine that was currently keeping Sam’s lungs moving, keeping his heart pumping. Because otherwise, there wasn’t really anything left of Sam to keep going.

_Chuck screaming, power pouring out of him. Sam holding onto the stupid staff, hands turning black with the staff as it burns and burns away. The black seeping up his arms, burning him away, his eyes lighting up as it tears at his soul._

_The big burst of light blinding him, keeping him from reaching Sam._

_When the light clears, all that’s there is Sam, laying prone on the ground, bloody and barely breathing._

Dean shut his eyes.

No, Sam probably wasn’t waking up. He’d grabbed the staff away from Dean and run out ahead of him, refusing to let him take it. He’d known. Just as Dean had known. They weren’t going to get out of the fight with Chuck alive.

He’d just sort of been hoping to not be the last one standing.

Charlie’s statement hung in the air, less of a question and more of a quiet acknowledgement. Her shoulders hunched a little as the silence endured, and Dean knew they needed to check each other over. His ear was still bleeding and there was a ringing noise that wouldn’t stop. Charlie’s arm still didn’t look right, but so far, she hadn’t let anyone look at it. Jody had a nasty cut that kept leaking into her hair, and Claire’s ankle was probably broken. She seemed sort of proud of it.

Castiel didn’t look too bad beyond bruised, but he kept leaning and tipping into things, his face almost white, it was so pale. Chuck had grabbed hold of something that Dean couldn’t see, but the angel’s scream had been enough to galvanize him into action. Whatever Chuck had done to Cas’s wings, it wasn’t good. They’d both wound up tossed for that, where Dean had cracked his head against a steel beam. That’s when the ringing had started.

That’s when Sam had made a mad dive for the staff and just swung hard. The magic hadn’t been built up enough for the staff to have the energy, they’d needed more time, but there hadn’t been enough time. So Sam had caught it and used his soul and-

Lunch revisited Dean’s throat, and he swallowed back hard.

Jody slowly pushed herself up from her chair. “Come on, sweetie,” she said quietly to Charlie. “Let’s get that arm looked at, go check on Claire. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

It left them alone in the room, Cas and Dean, with Sam. The machine kept breathing. Dean kept staring.

A sniffle from beyond Castiel reminded him that they weren’t completely alone. He glanced over at Jack, seated on one of the beds. The kid was filthy from head to toe, and there was a scar forming along the side of his face where Chuck had caught him. It’d been Jack, sacrificing the powers he’d just gotten back, that had kept Chuck occupied and damaged enough for Sam to make his move. They were lucky Jack wasn’t dead.

But all Jack seemed focused on was Sam. “I, I could try,” he began, voice rough, but Castiel cut him off.

“It won’t do you any good. All you have left is your soul, and even that’s taxed right now. You’re as human as the rest of us.” He stumbled a little and caught the edge of a medical cabinet. Dean found himself half-leaving his seat to catch him, but Castiel waved him off. “I’m all right. I just need rest. That’s all.”

Human. Not quite, but he was fast on his way. Whatever Chuck had done to his grace was probably the final blow to Castiel being an angel. He’d already been weak and clinging to his grace, and now…

It was too much, and how damning was it of Dean that all he could see was his brother glancing at him, even while the staff burned him away from the inside out, daring to give Dean a smile that said goodbye? His friends, his family, were all aching and wounded, and he couldn’t do anything except sit and watch his kid, his little brother, fade away.

His eyes burned.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and it was Castiel, watching him with tired eyes. “You need to rest.”

Dean immediately began to shake his head but Castiel only tightened his grip. “I’m not taking no for an answer, Dean. You need to rest. I’ll keep an eye on the machines. But you need rest.”

“He’s right,” Jody said, apparently having come back in. “I’ll get this crew handled. You, bed.”

_I’m fine_ and _Stop worrying about me_ both came to mind, but he couldn’t get either out. His mouth just wouldn’t work. And in the end, that seemed to decide both Jody and Cas. They helped all but carry him to his room and settled him down on his bed.

_Sammy,_ his mind called out, and a traitorous tear leaked down his face as his eyes shut. He’d rest for just a little bit. Just a little.

When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t in the bunker anymore. A long dirt road sat beneath him, and he sat up, catching everything in a single glance. Tall, golden grass on each side of the road. A pale blue sky, sun shining above, no clouds in sight.

Sam, seated across from him, giving him a small smile. “Hey,” he said.

Dean scrambled to get his feet underneath him but they felt wrong and weird. “Easy,” Sam cautioned. “Moving’s a little weird.”

“Sammy,” he said, his voice working for the first time in hours, and in an instant he had his little brother in his arms. Real, _alive_ , and Dean’s eyes filled. “ _Sam_.”

Sam wrapped him up in those gigantic arms of his, holding on just as tight, and Dean felt his hand…not rise and fall on Sam’s back. He pulled back, frowning. Sam gave him a reassuring smile, but it fell a moment later at Dean’s confusion.

He flickered.

Dean startled, eyes wide. No. _No_.

“Yes.”

He spun around. Billie stood in the middle of the road, looking far calmer and more put together than when he’d last seen her. “Billie,” he began, but she shook her head.

“No, I’m not going to listen to it. You both did what needed to be done, and I’m grateful. You saved everyone. Worlds that have no sign of the Winchesters in them will continue spinning because of what you did. Your world will continue on because of what you did. There is balance restored at last. Well, mostly. So thank you.”

“Thank me by not taking him to the Empty,” Dean snapped. “Put him back.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not taking him to the Empty, but I also cannot put him back.”

“Dean.”

He didn’t want to hear it. He turned back to Sam who gave him a gentle smile. “We both knew one or both of us was going to lose this fight with Chuck.”

“Yeah, me or both of us,” Dean insisted. “Not…not you.” Sam dying while Dean lived had never been an option on the table, as far as he was concerned. But it was what was apparently happening.

Sam was dead. Oh god, Sam was dead.

“Not yet.”

Billie held her hands out and gestured to their surroundings. “Think of this as the in-between place. The road we use to move between Heaven and Hell. A crossroads, if you will. Crossroads have power no matter where they are. And I’m allowing you both to be here to talk and make a decision.”

Decision? “You said you can’t put him back,” Dean said. “So what the hell decision do I have?”

“You can leave him like he is, forever alive but really gone,” Billie said. “The machine you have him hooked up to will keep him breathing, but his spirit isn’t there anymore. He’ll wander and become a restless spirit. Or worse.”

Dean froze. Sam bit his lip but didn’t say anything. “Something you’d have to put down,” Billie continued. “Like you’ve done many others.”

That fate…he couldn’t subject Sam to that, becoming the thing they’d hunted for so many years. Sam wouldn’t forgive him for that. “Or?” he managed to get out.

Billie crossed her arms. “You turn the machine off and let him go. I can’t keep him here indefinitely. Here, he has a choice of where he goes, Heaven or Hell. But he’s torn between the living realm and this one. And he can’t move on until you take him off life support.”

The entire world fell away beneath him, leaving Dean grasping for anything, something, to hang on to. He couldn’t seem to find air enough to breathe, and he flailed, reaching out and catching hold of his brother’s jacket. It felt like brittle leaves beneath his hand, barely there for him hold on to. Not really there, not really anywhere else.

Billie took two steps backwards and bowed her head. Giving them privacy and space, and Dean turned fully to Sam. Sam’s smile was still there, but it was trembling, the corners turning down despite his best efforts.

Dean swallowed. “I thought I could be ready for this, after all these years,” he said, and his voice broke at the end. “That I could accept you or me dying, y’know?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah,” he said, and he started to say something else, then stopped, his throat working.

Oh god this was it, this was really the last time he’d get to see Sam or talk to him, to be with the kid he’d raised, the man he loved so much it hurt. There was no Sam left after this.

“We did it,” Sam offered weakly, and Dean couldn’t take it.

“I can’t do this without you,” he finally choked out. “I just, Sammy, I _can’t_.”

The age-old statement made Sam’s smile a little more solid. “Yes you can—"

“ _No_ ,” Dean said, tears burning in his eyes. He shook his head vehemently. “No, I can’t.”

Sam’s smile disappeared. “But you have to.”

Dean caught hold of Sam’s sleeve and pulled him in. He wasn’t really solid, not under Dean’s hands, but Dean held on all the tighter. He buried his face in his brother’s neck as the tears finally spilled over.

Even though Sam wasn’t completely solid beneath him, he could still feel Sam’s tears soaking into his hair. He clutched all the harder.

“Don’t let me get lost,” Sam gasped out, breath hitching. “Dean, promise me.”

There was no deal to make, nothing left to give. The only thing he could do was protect Sam from an eternity of being a spirit. The only thing he could do was let Sam go.

“I promise,” he whispered.

“Promise me—"

“I swear I won’t. I’ll do it, Sammy.”

He pulled back and put Sam’s face between his hands. Sam looked as devastated as he felt, but his little brother gamely tried to sniff the worst of it away. “Take care of yourself, jerk,” Sam said, and he knew what Sam wanted, knew what he was supposed to say, but not now. Not this time.

“I love you, Sammy,” he whispered, and Sam’s careful façade broke completely at his words. “God I love you so much, little brother.”

“I—"

Between one blink and the next, Dean found himself back in his bed, gasping for air. He scrambled upright but he was alone in his room. The clock read two hours from when he’d gone down.

Something wet fell on his hands and he realized tears were still falling. He wiped his face and felt more rise. It wasn’t likely they were going to stop anytime soon.

But he’d made a promise. One he intended to keep.

Slowly he pushed himself up from the bed and headed for the door, feeling like he was the one headed for the gallows.

* * *

The room was silent. Dean couldn’t even hear anyone breathing. No one but the machine that kept pumping air into Sam’s lungs, if just for a little bit more.

Claire came forward first, limping a little. She rested a hand on Sam’s shoulder for a moment. “Thanks for…you know,” was all she said, and then she limped out of the way. Jody came next, eyes as red as could be, and she choked back a sob when she brushed some of Sam’s hair out of his face. She couldn’t seem to find her voice.

Charlie stepped forward, arm in a sling against her, and pressed a kiss to Sam’s forehead. “As gallant a knight a Queen could ever have hoped for,” she said quietly. She stepped back in a rush and dashed her free hand over her face.

Jack stumbled forward, looking like he’d be sick. “Thanks…Dad,” he whispered after a moment, and Dean had to look anywhere else. Because his heart was already in pieces and he couldn’t stand it for a moment more.

Castiel stood on the other side of the bed, hunched in on himself, eyes only on Sam. His face was as wet as Dean’s, and his lips parted to say something, then closed again. Parted, then stopped, and he finally just rested a hand on Sam’s shoulder and bowed his head. A prayer for Sam’s departure when he couldn’t find the words. Dean only caught the tail of it, love promised to a brother, and Dean barely managed to choke back his emotions. Sam had had a wobbly start with Castiel, but there was definitely love between them, and Dean knew that Sam had counted Castiel as a brother.

Then it was down to Dean.

Dean slowly took a seat beside Sam, where he’d been only a few hours before. He took Sam’s hand in his and lightly traced the black marks that would’ve likely scarred. Marks Sam wouldn’t have to worry about anymore. “I,” he began, and then he glanced up at Sam’s face. The breathing apparatus seemed to disappear, and it was Sam’s face on a dusty road, giving him a gentle, heartbroken smile.

“Love you, kiddo,” he whispered. He squeezed the hand hard. Then his free hand reached over and flipped the switch.

The machine cut off in an instant. Sam’s chest rose and fell with the air as it powered down, and then it didn’t move again. Dean stared, eyes feeling swollen and gritty but still unable to stop filling.

It was done. Sam was gone.

Charlie lost her composure and couldn’t stifle her sob. Across the bed, Castiel turned away, burying his face in his hands. Jody made shushing noises and Jack raced over to join what was no doubt a pile forming around the older woman.

Dean couldn’t seem to move. Sam’s hand had already been chilled before and was now going cold, but he didn’t let go. Couldn’t. If he let go, then it was really over, and he’d have to do the next steps, like build a pyre to make sure Sam didn’t wander. He wondered where Sam would go. Heaven wasn’t always cheery but had Mom and Dad, among others. Hell wasn’t so dismal these days and Rowena would take care of Sam. He’d be safe in either place.

It just wasn’t here with him. It wasn’t by Dean’s side.

He should’ve grabbed the staff first, he should’ve known Sam would take the initiative and throw himself in front of Chuck’s exploding, he should’ve known-

It was all too late. And the switch was done. Dean had ended his brother’s life. He’d let Sam go.

“Dean,” and it was Jody, her face wet but her voice mostly even. She rested a hand on his shoulder, on his neck, and brushed a thumb across his cheek to clear more tears. “Come on, Dean. Let’s…let’s get you something warm to drink.”

He made a sound, something like refusal, but Castiel stood in front of him. “We need to leave him, Dean,” he said softly, looking stricken by his own words. He shut his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, he seemed more composed. Pulling himself together for Dean’s sake, and he didn’t think he could love his best friend more than he did in that moment.

Cas was the only best friend he had left. Sam was gone. Sammy was gone.

Memories filled his thoughts, a little dark-haired boy offering him the prize from the cereal box, worried hazel eyes when they were late coming home from a hunt, a dimpled grin when Dean did something stupid just to make him laugh. Every bitchface his brother had ever made, the laugh when he’d pulled a prank, his open heart on his sleeve for Dean, always for Dean, because that was his little brother. By his side, even after he’d screwed up, even after Dean had messed up. The only guy who’d loved him through his best and worst. The little kid who’d grown into one of the best men he’d ever known.

“ _Don’t let me get lost, Dean. Promise me.”_

He hadn’t. He’d kept his promise, even while his heart had shattered inside of him.

“Dean, come on,” Castiel urged, tugging him up. Dean held on to the last possible moment, unable to let go, because when he did, when it was over, then Sam was gone, Sammy was _gone_ , and his hand slipped out of Sam’s.

Except.

Fingers tightened and caught on Dean’s. Dean froze, breath hitching against his will, eyes wide. Castiel, too, had stopped, sensing Dean’s sudden tension. “Dean?” he asked, frowning.

Not daring to hope, but unable to understand what he’d felt, he gently squeezed Sam’s hand. He’d lost it, he’d completely lost it, his mind unable to cope with Sam being gone. He must’ve imagined Sam’s grip tightening on his.

He didn’t imagine the hand, weak and trembling, squeezing back.

And no one missed the choked gasp as Sam’s eyes opened and he fought against the tube.

No one moved for a split second, and then everyone was in motion, hurrying to steady Sam, pinning him to get the tube out. He retched and Charlie and Jack got him onto his side in case he did more than gag, and Jody raced out of the room for water while Claire caught hold of Castiel and braced him against her when he stumbled back in shock.

Dean’s legs gave and he tumbled to the floor, crumpled by Sam’s side as his little brother choked and gasped and took in ragged breaths. Through it all, his hand never left Dean’s.

And when he finally whispered, “Dean?” Dean dove in and pulled Sam up against him. He was solid, no longer paper thin, and his chest rose and fell beneath Dean’s one hand.

Dean buried his face in his brother’s hair and cried.

* * *

“ _No_. _”_

_Sam stared. “Rowena!”_

_“I’m sorry, love, truly,” she said, and she did sound apologetic. “But if you come down here and I start showing preferential treatment, then they’ll wonder who to be loyal to, because there’s still quite a few who’d follow you if you took the throne. And I’ve got things wrapped up neatly here, thanks ever so, what with Chuck gone and Amara powerless, wherever she is. So I can’t take you.”_

_It had been an odd thing to request, going to Hell first, but Sam had known Rowena would take care of him. It would’ve been easier than dealing with angels who abhorred him. Who knew how they’d take Chuck’s demise. Or, really, subsequent dissolution. So to Hell they’d gone, down one end of the dusty road._

_Except Rowena had greeted him with a kiss, a hug, and an instant dismissal._

_“Argue your case or try elsewhere,” Billie told him. “You’re running out of time.”_

_“Good luck, Samuel,” Rowena told him with a bright smile. “Not how either of us pictured the end, is it?”_

_No, no it wasn’t, he’d sort of hoped to be side by side with Dean at the end. But if one of them had to die, then he was selfishly glad that it was him. He wanted Dean to have the chance to live, to_ really _live._

_They went back to the dusty road and headed towards Heaven. The whiteness startled Sam because this, this wasn’t what he’d remembered. Doors and doors of souls, all wrapped up tight, and it didn’t look that different from Hell in some aspects except for the lighting. One side of each coin, he figured._

_They stopped in front of a single door, and Sam stared at his own name, followed by…oh. A lot of start and stop dates. They filled almost half the door. He sort of wondered what Dean’s door looked like, after Gabriel’s Tuesdays at the Mystery Spot._

_He reached for the doorknob, but Billie caught his arm. “You’re just leaving without a farewell?” she asked._

_Well, when she put it like that. “Thank you for letting me decide,” he said, because that, that was more than he’d expected. From planning to toss them into the Empty to allowing Sam the decision of his final resting place, Billie had really softened up. That or she was seriously that grateful. Either way, Sam would take it._

_He paused, then bit his lip. “Uh, would you be willing to give Dean a message for me?”_

_Her good mood vanished in an instant. “Such as?”_

_So much for good will. “Just tell him what I decided. Where I wound up. So when it’s his turn…he can make the same call. And tell him it better not be anytime soon.”_

_The scowl had disappeared back into a raised eyebrow. “You’re letting him go?”_

_“I know he’s not going to be okay,” he admitted. “But if you tell him where I am, that it was my decision, then I’m sort of hoping he will be. I’ll be waiting. Tell him that.” It wasn’t really letting Dean go, but for the first time, he was going to acknowledge what Dean would want and stop trying to get Dean to do what Sam thought he needed. And that meant giving himself what he really wanted, too: his big brother to come with him. He wondered, sometimes, what would’ve happened if he’d asked Dean that all those years ago when he’d left to go to Stanford._

_A beatific smile graced her face, making Billie suddenly shine, and the hallway faded out to nothing. Sam whipped his head around frantically as the space went back to the dusty road, except he couldn’t feel it beneath his feet. “Billie, what’s going on?” he asked. Had his request done this? Had he asked too much?_

_But she was still smiling. Something like fireworks burst above him, and the pale blue sky faded to a midnight darkness. The road smoothed out and Sam suddenly found himself floating in ethereal mist. “Billie! What’s happening?”_

_“Dean did it,” she said. “And so did you. You broke Chuck’s last hold on the universe. Dean let you go, and you chose what your brother would want.”_

_So why was he still here? “Then—"_

_“I have managed to restore balance to everyone and everywhere else, save for this one world,” she continued. “I could not undo a prophecy set across every single world unless I undid it here. His last edict, his most fervent, and you both did it. You followed his wishes, but you chose each other first. A sacrifice.”_

_“What prophecy?” Sam asked. A wind began to howl as the stars around him shone, and when he looked back at Billie, she was a faceless form of pure energy, bright and dangerous._

_Her smile still resounded in her voice. “One brother must end the other. But this one wasn’t done for selfish reasons. This one was done out of love. The one thing Chuck never thought could be involved.”_

_Then he was falling, faster and faster, until he landed hard in something that held pain and agony and he couldn’t breathe. So many people around him, holding him and gazing with too-bright faces._

_But there was one face he knew, one grasp he knew holding his hand. Dean. Somehow, he had Dean._

* * *

“So…you fulfilled Chuck’s prophecy?”

Sam rested his head back against the sofa. He didn’t really have any energy to do much else. He’d already almost dropped a glass of water but Jack had caught it before it could so much as spill. Everyone was as close as they could get without actually knocking into him, which he appreciated, even though they were sort of smothering him.

Actually, the only person who _wasn’t_ near him was Dean, who’d taken up pacing and pretending it was to do things like get drinks and put away books and push in chairs. He got it. The come-down from the adrenaline rush of _I thought you were dead_ was a bitch.

He made himself refocus on Charlie’s words. “Yeah, we did. Or, really, Dean did when he let me go.”

“Because I killed you,” Dean said. His voice was rough, like he hadn’t used it in a while, and when he looked at Sam, it was with anguish in his eyes.

Sam just met his gaze evenly. “Dean, there wasn’t anything left to kill but a body. I was already gone, remember? You were just letting the shell go, but it was enough to fulfill Chuck’s demented desires. And that was the last thing he had left in the universe. With that done, I think Billie had a chance of putting everything back to rights.”

“Balancing the scale,” Castiel murmured. “I can feel it, even as low on grace as I am. There’s been a shift, the way things felt when I first came down to Earth.”

Sam hummed and closed his eyes. His hands ached, and he didn’t really want to look at them. The black was probably permanently scarred into his skin. He’d deal with it later. Right now, he was busy drawing in breaths.

“But you were dead. Like, permanently dead for once. Ow! It’s the truth!”

“Claire, I swear…”

Sam’s lips turned up. “I was. And I was prepared to be. But, I mean, I didn’t want to be. Not that I figured it mattered, since Billie was being gracious enough to let me pick where I wound up. Which, by the way, remind me to tell Rowena that as much as I adore her, she’s a little bit of a bitch, too.”

“Was there any doubt?” Castiel muttered.

Claire’s voice came back, still sounding confused. “Okay, whatever. The point is, Billie said she couldn’t bring you back, so how come she did?”

He opened his eyes and found the group watching him, waiting on the answer. Even Dean had stopped, eyes locked on him, probably counting every breath he took. Wondering why and how Billie had pulled off the miracle she’d sworn she couldn’t.

“I think she always could,” Sam said slowly. “But she needed the prophecy broken first, or we were never going to be really free. After it was done, then she could send me back. I think…I think it was her way of thanking us.” Her blessing to them for returning the universe to stability and order.

It was humbling and more than scary, to think of her as the only being really left with that much power. But Billie would do what needed to be done for the sake of the universe, not herself, and he sort of felt okay with her in charge.

He coughed and then it didn’t stop, the itch in his throat taking over. A hand caught him by the chest as he fell forward, and he clung to Dean as he tried to ease the scratch. A glass at his lips let cool water in, and he greedily drank it down until the throat felt smooth again. Spent, he fell back onto the sofa, breathing a little heavily.

“I’ll get you some hot tea,” Jody said. “I could use some help.”

“We can take a hint, you know,” Claire muttered, and Sam just smiled as several footsteps trudged towards the kitchen.

Dean began to step away, the hand leaving his chest, and Sam tightened his grip and pulled with what strength he had left. Dean tumbled onto the sofa next to him with a heavy _oomph_ and Sam just leaned up against him. “You could’ve asked,” Dean grumbled, but his arm went around Sam, tentatively, so hesitantly, like he expected Sam to break.

“You were going to avoid me until you felt better about it,” Sam said, eyes still closed. “Just shut up and be here, okay?”

He didn’t get a response except for Dean’s arm to hold on a little more firmly. Sam let out a soft sigh.

Another hand rested on his in his lap, and he opened his eyes then to see Castiel kneeling in front of him, eyes a little red. “You okay?” Sam asked.

Castiel shook his head, but it was with a small smile. “You die, and you ask me if I’m all right,” he said. “I’m better, knowing you’re here. Losing either of you…I can’t,” he confessed.

_“I can’t do this without you. I can’t.”_

Sam swallowed hard, his abused throat protesting. “I don’t think we’re going anywhere for a while,” he said. “I think…I think we’ll be okay for a bit.” He wasn’t exactly certain what came next, actually. Besides tea and sleep.

There’d always been the next thing, the next bigger crisis to deal with. To have there be no crisis on the horizon, to have an actual moment to breathe…he wasn’t sure what to do with that. He didn’t think any of them did. Maybe Jody would know best, having a full-time job that didn’t involve hunting.

Tea showed up eventually, with Dean helping to hold the mug before Sam could pour it all over himself. It felt amazing on his throat, but exhaustion only let him take a few sips before it was all over.

Everything got a little hazy after that. He knew he headed down the hall, Dean propping him up on one side, Castiel on the other. His brothers guided him to Dean’s room, where he was carefully placed down on the memory foam. Castiel closed the door on the way out, no doubt going to find Jack. Sam would need to check on the both of them.

Later. After sleep.

Dean pulled him close, like he was a little kid again, and Sam buried his head under Dean’s chin. Sleep tugged at him but he couldn’t drift under. Not yet. Not when he still had something left to say.

He rested a hand against Dean’s chest and felt his brother’s heart starting to slow down. “I love you, too,” he whispered.

Dean’s grip tightened to the point of pain. “Bitch,” he finally choked out, and Sam smiled and finally succumbed to sleep.

He dreamed of stars and empty roads, riding side by side with Dean. Above them, Billie hovered as moonlight, keeping light to balance the darkness.


End file.
